I’ve always been comfortable eating street food and drinking the water when traveling in other countries. I’ve even traveled alone to some countries labeled as “dangerous.”
I always believed that “a little dirt” or “a few germs” wouldn’t hurt me—in fact, I thought that they would make me stronger and more resistant.
But ever since the first week in March, I’ve had some major paradigm shifts. Now, everything and everybody feels a little like the enemy. Every item that comes through my doors gets wiped down to remove “the germs.” Every person I come in contact with is a potential threat to my health and well-being if they encroach on my space.
At times, I am consumed by worst-case scenarios playing out in my head. I feel paralyzed and depressed by what our world has become. I feel disappointed that so many people aren’t taking this situation seriously.
Fortunately, I have a safe escape…
When I am in my studio, painting, I feel as though my life has not changed much at all. The world stops for hours and hours as I create new paintings and listen to music.
For the most part, I am not addressing the pandemic in my work. My art looks exactly the same—almost as if nothing terrible is happening in the world. I am using the same bright colors and capturing pop culture as I always have. This is—and always has been—my therapy.
However, there is a distinct change in the work I have been creating for Arlington’s Words to Art project, which deals directly with COVID-19. I’m one of several participating artists challenged with translating single words (submitted by members of the community) into visual works of art. Everything I have created for this project has been in black and white. The words I have selected so far—words like chastened and broken—really speak to what’s going on inside me.
Hopefully next week I will choose a more uplifting word.
During the first weeks of the pandemic, things were quiet. Now, more people are reaching out to me to commission new paintings or buy work I previously created.
l am inspired and motivated by the people who have specifically said that they want to support local artists during this crisis. I suspect they are buying other things locally and supporting other small businesses, too.
I really wish that I could invite them into my studio and get to know them better. But for now, our masks and latex gloves are a clear sign that we are still living in a touch-free, curbside pickup world.
Readers: We want to hear your stories. Send your 300-word COVID-19 story and a photo to editorial@arlingtonmagazine.com. You can read more Covid Chronicles essays here.